Worst Nightmare
by McAbbyGirl4Life
Summary: McGee gets visited by a terror from his past. The team is no longer safe with him around so Tim takes matters into his own hands...but is that the smartest option? INDEFINITE HIATUS. Sorry, folks!
1. Who are You?

**Ok, first suspensful fanfic so enjoy and tell me if i suck or not!**

Tim McGee lounged lazily on his couch as he sipped his morning coffee. Ah, Sundays. They were such a wonderful day of the week. No work, he could sleep, or type, or just relax, and Gibbs hardly ever called them in. Yep, Sundays were good days. Well, with an exception to this one. Tim sat idly as he relished the freedom of the day. There was so much he could do and with such limited interruption. This sort of independence was rarely found even on the week day evenings. Not even on Saturdays. Just these precious Sundays. He smiled as he took another taste of his rather sweet coffee. But just as he closed his eyes to take another deep breath of his uneventful morning his cell phone rang. All happiness faded from the room as Tim reluctantly picked it up.

"Hello." He answered trying hard to keep all the bitterness out of his voice from having his single free day snatched from his grasp.

"Hello?" He repeated when no one answered. He was about to hang up when a man's deep, calm voice answered him.

"Hello, Timothy McGee. And how are you this fine Sunday morning?"

"Er, do I know you?" Tim responded, slightly perplexed. There was a pause before the man answered:

"In some ways yes. In others ways no."

"I'm hanging up now." Tim said into the phone for he presumed, seeing that the man was making no sense at all, it was a prank call,.

"I know what you eat. I know what you drink. I know where you sleep. I know what you hate. I know whom you love." The man's voice had taken on an ominous tone and Tim was beginning to feel rather unnerved.

"Look, this is my day off and I have no time for idiotic prank calls!" Tim growled in the receiver.

"Oh, this is no prank call." The man replied with a note of relish in his voice that sent a shiver down Tim's spine.

"Oh, really." Said McGee trying to sound sarcastic as he hid his growing apprehension.

"Yes, now if you knew what was best for you and particularly those around you, I suggest you run. Far. That is if you fear for your loved ones lives." The man answered coolly, like that of one discussing the weather or other small, unimportant details of everyday activities not the pressing matter of a cherished one's life.

"Why would I do that? I don't even no you. You don't pose any threat against me. You don't know anything about me!" Tim was definitely beginning to feel uneasy. There was something about the man's voice that frightened him…

"Oh, but I do know you, Tim! I probably know more about you than even you do."

Tim was tired of the game he was playing with the man on the phone. No more beating around the bush.

"What do you want with me?"

"I want to kill you." The man seemed to savor the words as he said them a certain longing etched in the tones of his voice as if he ached to fulfill his bloodlust.

Fear and adrenaline pulsed through Tim's veins. He had one last final question:

"Who are you?"

"I'm the man who murdered your father."

His worst nightmare had just begun...


	2. For The Best

Monday morning started out as usual at NCIS. Tony annoyed Ziva to the point that she dumped her full coffee cup on his head, drenching his hair in the brown liquid, Gibbs walked in drinking deeply from his own coffee, Abby was down in her lab sucking down her morning Caf-Pow, and Ducky was in Autopsy making himself a cup of tea before beginning the day's work. Everything was normal until McGee walked out of the elevator doors exactly an hour later. He had stayed in the elevator for a good half-hour before working up the nerve to do what he was about to do. After calling Sarah and making sure she was guarded 24/7, Tim stayed up all night formulating a plan to keep his team out of the danger at hand. His end result was not what he had hoped for but it was the best he could come up with. Taking a deep breath Tim strode into the squad room and nearly stopped dead in his tracks when he saw that both Abby and Ducky were there. Why in the world were they there? This was not going to make things any easier. He swallowed hard before walking boldly up to Gibbs' desk and slamming his badge and gun down in front of him.

"I'm done." Tim snarled screwing his face up in his best expression of anger. "I'm finished. Director Vance already has my letter of resignation. Thanks for the memories." And with that he turned from their shocked faces and began walking to the elevator.

"McGee!" Tony had found his voice and was shouting after him. Ziva did the same.

"McGee, stop." It was Gibbs this time. Tim could hear the echo of authority in his boss' command and paused. _Go! Keep them out of danger and leave!_ He told himself sternly. Tim took another step foreword when another voice stopped him.

"Tim!" It was Abby. The pain and anger in her voice made Tim halt. He reluctantly turned and slowly walked back to his team hating himself for what he was about to do. But he had to do it. He had to cut himself from their lives even if it left scars. Right now their safety was more important than their feelings even if that was hard to swallow.

"Where the heck do you think your going?" Gibbs asked him furiously.

Tim licked his dry lips before beginning. _It's for the best._

"I'm leaving because I can't stand this team anymore. I can't stand you, Tony, and all your stupid jokes and movie references. Why don't you just grow up? You're impossible to be around. You cut me down and make jokes about things I care about and I hate you for it!"

And Ziva! You and all your mistakes in English, I'm so tired of having to practically talk in code because you can barely say a sentence without messing up! You've been in this country for 5 years! You're a citizen now. Learn to talk!"

He took a breath before continuing.

"And Gibbs, you act like you're the perfect leader and that we have to obey and respect you but what have you ever done to deserve that? You've made more mistakes than any human being I know and your supposed to be our role model?

And Ducky! Are you able to keep your mouth shut more than 5 minutes? I assume we are supposed to learn from your _extensive _knowledge but do you have anything useful that you could share or is it all just worthless stories?"

"And Abby!" He swallowed forcing himself to continue.

"Do you even recognize all I do for you? Do you even notice when I bend over backwards to do some obscure near-to-impossible task just for you? And what do I get out of it? A peck on the cheek? I would give my life for you and would probably just brush it off. All I want is just a little "Thank you, Timmy." Or a hug! But no, you just continue to play me and I let you but enough is enough!"

Tim's light, green-blue eyes met Abby's emeralds and he watched them fill with tears. One trickled down her face and the pain tore into him like a knife. His team stared at him in hurt and alarm. McGee managed to look fierce but their gazes were penetrating the weak walls of his false anger so he turned and walked numbly to the elevator. A look of hatred was obvious on his face as the doors closed but it was at himself rather than his team. He could hear Abby cry his name once more and it took every muscle in his body to keep him from running back there and pulling her into an embrace and holding her close. But what's done was done. Hopefully he had put up a good of an act so that they wouldn't start digging out of suspicion for this was not a situation that they ought to meddle in. But as the last glimpse of the squad room was shown through the crack before the elevator doors were completely closed, Tim wondered if this was the last time he was ever going to see that office again. Or ride this elevator. Or see his team…

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	3. A Memory

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McGee roughly slammed the door of his Porsche in his hast to make it quickly to his apartment. He wanted nothing more than to be alone right now. The glares from his teammates still burned in his mind, stinging like lemon juice poured on an open wound. Each of their eyes asked the same question: "Why was he doing this?". More than anything in the world he wanted to explain the sick, twisted situation he was in at the moment but protecting them was the more pressing matter. When he finally reached his destination Tim collapsed on the couch in a miserable heap with his head in his hands. Jethro bolted to him, jumped on the couch and began licking his hands profusely. Finally, he silently laid down with his head resting gently on Tim's knee clearly comprehending his owner's sorrow.

"What am I supposed to do?" McGee asked the dog hopelessly as Jethro drooled on his jeans. He wined sadly in response and licked Tim's face.

"Oh, your no help." Tim said with a small smile, absently scratching behind the dog's ears. He heard the muffled beeping of his phone and slowly pulled it out of his pocket. Everyone had been calling him constantly but Tim that this was a blocked number. He shivered, knowing who it probably was.

"McGee." He answered nervously.

"Hello, Tim." Answered an all to familiar voice, confirming his suspicion.

"Well, look who's calling. And how else would you like to ruin my life today?" McGee said, suddenly burning with fury as his teammates faces flashed in his mind again. The man chuckled pleasantly at McGee's remark.

"Oh, the demolishing of your life has only just begun, Tim. No, no, no, what you faced today was merely a taste of the torture that you will be forced to endure…that is if you fear for the lives of your friends." The man replied placidly.

"I swear, if you dare hurt them I'll-"

"Would you care to know what I have planned for you to do or would you prefer to continue your rant and therefore extend the danger of your loved ones lives?" The man asked calmly, cutting him off.

"I'm listening." McGee said, swallowing back his retort.

"Your instructions are simple: Pack your bags and check into the hotel nearest to you first thing in the morning."

"Consider it done. Now I have a question for you." Tim stated boldly.

"I'm listening."

"How do I know that once I'm dead you won't kill my team?"

The man let out a let laugh.

"Dear boy, I don't think you get it!" The man said, amusement obvious in his voice. "It is not your team's lives that I want but only yours. Your team members are simply pawns in a very complicated game of chess. Sadly, though they may play in my favor you do not have the upper hand in this matter seeing that you have nothing over me. I can however promise you this: Once you are dead your friends and family will continue on with their lives unharmed and soon you will fade into nothing more than a mere memory."

Tim swallowed hard.

"Thank you."

The man let out another entertained laugh.

"Though he was not one himself your father did raise a true gentleman. Its such a pity that you must be taken from this world at such a young age for I am sure many women find you truly charming but I'm afraid a son must pay for his father's sins." And with that the line went dead.

"He's really fond of the dramatic ending sentences isn't he, boy?" McGee commented to his dog. But one sentence stuck out in particular: _Soon you will fade into nothing more than a mere memory. _Would he really become nothing more than a hopefully pleasant memory? Would Tony miss teasing him? Would Gibbs miss his youngest agent? Would Ziva regret not having him there to gang up on Tony with? And what about Abby? Would she sincerely miss not having him by her side slaving over keyboards together, best friends? Would he really just slip out of their lives as easily as he had slipped in?

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	4. Intense Loathing

**Thank you guys so much for the reviews! I'm really glad your enjoying the story! McAbby 4eva :D**

Abby sighed miserably as she sat shivering in her hearse outside of McGee's apartment complex. After a half-hour of sitting in the running car she decided to turn it off to conserve the battery and to stimulate herself to go inside for the car was slowly becoming as cold as it was outdoors. She drummed her numb fingers restlessly on the steering wheel. It wasn't possible to believe that Tim, her sweet Timmy, could have meant the things he had said that day which was why she was at his apartment, or rather the apartment complex's parking lot, to confront him. Abby figured she would devise what she was to say to him on the way there but after assembling in the parking lot for more than an hour she was still drawing a blank.

"Come on, Abigail go inside! Its just McGee." She told herself firmly.

Honestly, she had no reason to be nervous! But truth be told she was scared. The intense loathing look on Tim's face that day had terrified her. She had to find out if he really had meant what he had said about her, about Ducky, about all of them. With that she got out of her car and began tracing the familiar steps to McGee's apartment. After what seemed like decades she finally reached his door…

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Tim had spent most of the remaining day hurriedly throwing random clothes, toothbrushes, and the like into his suitcase sometimes stopping to feed Jethro, or calling Sarah to see if she was still OK. He was just stuffing some pajamas in his bag when there was a knock on the door. He grimaced. How he had hoped that his team would have just let him go and not bothered him but Tim knew better. He ignored the knocking and continued with the task at hand. The knocking soon turned into furious banging, but after several irritating minutes it finally stopped. McGee sighed and massaged his aching ears. He heard the rattling of his doorknob but he knew that it was securely locked. But suddenly there was a loud squeaking as his door swung open and Tim whirled around to see Abby standing there, platform heels and all.

"W-what are you- did you just break into my house?" McGee asked her in surprise.

Abby bit her lip.

"Well, technically I didn't break in, cause you know, nothings actually broken and picking a lock isn't breaking anything either…so no I didn't just break into your house."

McGee had difficulty covering up a smile.

"Ok, then why did you just technically not break into my house because you picked the lock, for?" He asked stiffly, remembering the situation he was stuck in.

"You know why I'm here." Abby told him seriously. An awkward silence persisted as neither said a word.

"Did you really mean what you said, Tim?" She asked him in distress.

McGee glanced at her. She had her puppy-dog pout on and Tim knew he wouldn't be able to resist her so he looked away.

"Timothy McGee, look me in the eye and tell me you didn't mean it!" Abby demanded angrily.

She was one the verge of tears and once again McGee had to fight the urge to wrap his arms around her and tell her everything was all right. Everything wasn't all right and Tim had to face that. But for once spilt second as her soft emerald eyes met his light turquoise orbs he re-considered the whole thing. What if he told her what was going on? Couldn't Gibbs, fearless Gibbs and him and Tony and Ziva be able to protect each other? Did he really have to die and leave them all behind? Yes. He had to keep them safe and letting them in on what was happening was too much of a risk.

"I can't do that Abby, because I meant every word I said." He spat harshly.

Abby flinched at his words. Her bottom lip trembled rapidly and a tear dribbled down her face. Once more McGee felt like a knife was being jabbed in his chest.

"Timmy…" She whimpered pitifully.

There was another uncomfortable pause.

"Look, Abby I've got some stuff I got to get done so-"

"I THOUGHT YOU CARED ABOUT YOUR TEAM!" Abby shouted abruptly at him, cutting him off. "I thought you loved NCIS!"

"I thought you cared about your desk and the field work and your nicknames from Tony and coming down to my lab." She rambled on her words becoming more garbled as tears streamed faster down her cheeks making her mascara run.

McGee stared helplessly at the floor.

"Tim, I thought you cared about me." Her words were nothing more than a murmur.

Tim took a deep breath before answering, despising himself.

"Well, I guess you thought wrong."

Abby's pained gaze pierced him like bullets. She opened her mouth to say something but closed it again without uttering a word. She turned to leave but before the door closed Abby caught a glimpse of McGee's face, once more full of an intense loathing.

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	5. Well, I guess you thought wrong

**I'm so glad you guys are enjoying the story so much! Thank you for encouraging a probie like me with your reviews it means alot!**

The next day dawned stormy and dreary. It took Abby another 15 minutes to get to work in result of the ice and snow the storm brought with it. And besides that she had taken a detour to the nearest bookstore and bought the CD she had been looking for, so by the time she actually made it to work she was a good hour late. Abby walked in a daze to her lab but before settling in she went to her CD player and put in the CD she had bought. After clicking to the track of her choice she sat in her chair and twirled around absently as the song started:

_I never knew. I never knew that everything was falling through. That everyone I knew was waiting on a cue to turn and run when all I needed was the truth._

Abby sighed. She had never felt so horrible in her entire life. Tim's words still burned like venom in her mind. Memories from the night before flooded her brain:

_"Tim, I thought you cared about me."_

_"Well, I guess you thought wrong."_

A tear slid silently down her cheek.

_I'd rather run the other way than stay and see the smoke and who's still standing when it clears._

A sob racked Abby's throat but she bit it back bitterly. Having had been up all night sobbing until her pillow was soaked she was now entirely exhausted but most of all she was sick, and tired of crying. She tried desperately to focus on her work but it was utterly impossible. She glared furiously at her computer screen occasionally plinking pointlessly on her keyboard.

_"Well, I guess you thought wrong."_

The words rang in her ears making her head pound.

_"Well, I guess you thought wrong."_

She turned the music up to an ear-splitting volume to drown out her thoughts but it was useless seeing that she was blaring McGee's favorite band.

_"Well, I guess you thought wrong."_

She sighed despondently and took a deep gulp of her Caf-Pow. With that she got up and seized Bert off her shelf and hugged him close to her chest for comfort. The noise that erupted from the hippo soothed her aching heart somewhat and she smiled slightly.

_Everyone knows I'm in over my head over my head. Eight seconds left on over time she's on your mind she's on your mind._

A memory flashed through her mind. It was from 8 years ago a little after her and Tim first met however, it was the first time McGee had met Bert. She remembered it like it was yesterday even though it felt like decades ago. They were in the middle of an infuriatingly complicated case and Abby was going on one of her usual rants….

_"...Can't believe what they did to this hard drive. Wiped it clean!"_

_McGee was trying desperately hard to calm her down and failing greatly_ (it was obvious he had not mastered this difficult skill yet)

_"Look Abby, I'm sure we'll be able to fix it just-"_

_She held up her hand to silence him and he did as he was told, his bottom lip protruding somewhat in a very McGee like pout that she was unaccustomed to at the time. She snatched her favorite stuffed hippo from the shelf and gave him an angry squeeze. The stuffed animal let out its signature sound and McGee jumped back in surprise. He looked awkwardly from Abby to the hippo and licked his lips, squirming uncomfortably._

_"Relax, McGee its just the hippo."_

_"You have a stuffed hippo that, that, well…" He gestured to the hippo._

_"Yeah, do you have a problem with that?"_

_McGee shook his head rapidly and continued to maintain an embarrassed demeanor._

Abby chuckled at the memory. Her vague laugh turned into uncontrollable giggles as she remembered the look on her Timmy's young, chubby face, staring awkwardly from her to her favorite stuffed animal. But over the years Tim and Bert became good friends much to Abby's amusement. Her laughter continued but was abruptly interrupted when a voice broke through her personal entertaining memories.

"Abs?"

It was Tony.

"Oh, hey Tony." Abby answered, wiping the tears of laughter from her cheeks.

"Hey." He said walking cautiously to her side. Abby just smiled cheerfully at him and he frowned slightly.

"So, um, what's with the music?" Tony asked, clearly testing the atmosphere of the room.

Abby stopped and listened to the music for a moment.

_Everyone knows I'm in over my head over my head._

Tim's favorite song was still playing and Abby presumed she must have absently hit the "repeat" button.

"Oh, is there something wrong with it?" Abby asked innocently.

"No, nothing it's just…not really your style." Tony commented casually.

"Well, maybe I'm changing my style." Abby snapped back. She regretted it immediately as Tony gazed at her intently.

"Its…its Tim's favorite." She admitted truthfully.

"How are you holding up?" Tony asked her gently, looking attentively into her eyes.

"I'm fine." Abby lied quickly, averting her gaze.

"Well, if you ever need to talk…we're here for you, Abs." Tony told her tenderly.

Abby nodded her head.

"Thanks, Tony." She whispered, pulling into a bone-crushing hug.

"Anytime, Abs." Tony gasped, patting her gently on the back.

He turned to leave and Abby once more focused on the lyrics of the song:

_Never thought that you wanted to bring it down. We won't let it go down 'till we torch it ourselves._

Abby gave Bert another squeeze.

_"Tim, I thought you cared about me."_

_"Well, I guess you thought wrong."_

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**FunFact: For those of you following along at home go re-watch Season 3's "Bloodbath" and if you listen in the background "Over My Head" By the Fray is playing so i didn't make this up so i did my homework lol!**


	6. Nightmares

**Sorry i took so long for an update! I had to do a little history research for this chapter so it took longer...Enjoy!**

McGee silently dragged his suitcase to his car the following morning, post his and Abby's fight. He drove in an eerie stillness with nothing but his thoughts to keep him company. Every time he closed his eyes all he could see was her wounded expression pleading with him to take back what he had said. Tim knew that would be seared in his mind until the day he would make her smile again and repair her damaged heart. He stopped at the hotel closest to his apartment and checked himself in. With that he went to his room and crashed on the bed, not bothering to put his things away yet. Tim sat in a dismal silence wishing that Jethro was there to keep him from being lonely but he had shipped his pet off to Sarah's to serve as her watchdog. Tim's brain slammed into over-drive as thoughts began pouring into his mind as he lay there. He was appreciative of the time to think after the eventful past couple of days and he immediately became absorbed in his problems and issues. Memories began making their way into his thought process and he allowed them to over take his mind, hoping to find something useful from them. Tim took a deep breath and closed his eyes, letting the memories flow:

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He was 7 years old and his father was coming home from the Vietnam War. Joyful energy pulsed through his young body as he bounded around the house his mother laughing at her son's ecstasy tears of happiness streaking down her cheeks at the thought of her husband coming home at last.

Ten years past and he was 17. His father had been missing for several days and the entire family was on edge. He had been at school as usual when an emergency call came from his mother and he was sent home immediately. He walked through the door to find his mother sobbing hysterically on the couch next to his sister who was staring dazedly into space. It was then that his mother choked out how his father had been brutally murdered then had fled to the privacy of her bedroom. Tim would have done the same if it weren't for the small figure on the couch that was still gazing numbly at nothing. Tim had scooped her up in his arms and held her close while she cried into his shoulder. It was then that him and Sarah had started becoming extremely close. Not until later that night after Sarah had been safely tucked away in bed and his mother had calmed down somewhat, did he find out what had truly happened. He mother explained how many years ago when his father was at war he and his team of men raided a Vietnamese village killing many of its occupants. Several women and children were able to flee but none of the men survived. One boy's entire family was killed right before his eyes but the boy was nothing more than a young teenager and Tim's father did not have the heart to kill him so he let him free. The boy had fled to England, had gone to college and became educated, all the while the face of the man who had murdered his family still fixed in his memory. One day the child who was now a young man about the age of 25 went to America for a change of pace for he was curious about the country. The man ran into Tim's father one day and recognized him instantly. The man strategically followed him home, captured him, viciously tortured him, and then finally after several agonizing days killed him. The man's name was Earnest Bram. He was convicted for murder and was sentenced to a lifetime in prison. Even though he was more computer smart than anything from that day on Tim was determined to put other brutal criminals like this man in prison in honor of his father.

Which brought Tim to his biggest question: How did this man get out of prison? Was he really so revenge stricken that he broke out? But how since it was nearly impossible?

This was one of the many reasons Tim was so frightened of this man. That and the fact that he had tortured his father most likely to the point of insanity. This was one of the main reasons Tim had to keep his team away from the danger the man possessed even if that meant suffering the consequences.

The minutes turned to hours as Tim rested on his bed completely submerged in his thoughts. Eventually, however the lack of sleep from the past several days was catching up to him. His eyelids began to droop wearily and he struggled to keep them open. Within moments Tim was fast asleep but even his dreams were gradually turning into nightmares.

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**Ok so this chapter was more information than anything but i promise it will be useful in chapters to come! Oh, and again for those of you following along at home FunFact: Earnest= Fight to the Death and Bram= Death and Destruction R&R Luv ya all!**


	7. Not Normal

**Here's a nice long chapter for my patient readers :)**

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McGee woke with a jolt to the sound of his cell phone ringing. He blinked his eyes rapidly trying to rid them of the sleep that had captivated him so. Groggily he made a grab for the phone and missed, slamming his head on the bedside table.

"Ouch!" He snarled, suddenly wide-awake. Tim seized the phone more carefully this time and peered down at the Caller ID while massaging his sore head. It was a blocked call. He groaned inwardly before answering.

"McGee."

"Hello, Tim." Replied a cool, calm, voice that Tim was getting far to accustom to.

"Hello yourself. And what can I do for you today?" Tim retorted mockingly.

"I don't appreciate sarcasm." Earnest remarked but Tim could have sworn he was smiling.

"I assume you have my next assignment?" Tim asked, not necessarily wanting to remain on the phone with the murderer any longer than was required.

"Dear boy, there is no need to rush. Let us chat for a few moments. I'm sure you have many questions that you would like answers to and I'd be happy to oblige." Earnest said pleasantly. Had he not been the man who had killed his father, Tim would have rather liked the man. His quiet, tranquil, voice and peaceful manner was quite charming and Tim felt almost relaxed the more the man talked despite the fact Earnest wanted to kill him and was putting his friends lives in jeopardy.

"Go ahead. I will answer any question that I can." Earnest prodded good-naturedly.

Tim chewed on his options for a moment, wondering what he ought to ask. Earnest waited tolerantly on the other line until McGee finally chose his inquiry.

"Why are you so patient?" Tim speculated inquisitively. "You could have easily killed me by now. I understand that you want me to suffer but…" He let his thought trail.

"An interesting question indeed." The man remarked quietly. "To be honest with you Tim I find you highly amusing. I truly regret having to kill you. You seem like such an enchanting young man…but as much as I rue it you must die."

"Why?"

"Because of what you father did. He destroyed my life. For years I pondered how to seek my revenge to quench my thirst for vengeance. Finally I came to the conclusion that killing his only son was fitting for the consequences of his actions."

Tim was silent for a moment.

"How did you manage to get out of jail?"

The man let out a thunderous laugh.

"It is quite the thrilling tale my boy, perhaps I will enlighten you one day. However now is not the time."

Tim cracked a small smile.

"Now, enough chat. Your instructions are simple again. I hear the local steakhouse is excellent. Enjoy a meal there. Oh, and be sure to pick a fight while your there. You're a strong lad, pick on people your own size." The line went dead. Tim shook his head in slight confusion. The man sure gave the most peculiar directions…

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An unnatural stillness lingered in the squad room the day after McGee left. The team didn't have a case so they spent their time catching up on paper work that had been piling over. They worked noiselessly on their task, never uttering more than a sentence to each other. On occasion one of them would look up when they were positive the others would not notice and glance at their absent team member's unoccupied desk. This quiet routine went on until the silence was broken when Gibbs' phone rang.

"Gibbs." Their leader answered automatically.

"Jethro, would you be so kind as to come down here for a moment." Ducky responded.

He sounded rather troubled but then again all of the team sounded troubled at the moment and frankly Gibbs didn't blame them. He too was worrying about his youngest agent.

"Yeah Duck, be down in a minute." Gibbs replied, somewhat intrigued.

With that he got up from his desk and disappeared down to Autopsy leaving Tony and Ziva alone in the squad room. The sound of Ziva typing furiously on her computer echoed in the stillness of the room sporadically joined by Tony noisily striking his keyboard with his fingers in a method he identified as "typing". Suddenly the clicking of the keyboards ceased followed promptly by an angry outburst from Ziva.

"What's the matter Ziva? Computer crash?" Tony inquired as she let out another aggravated growl throwing her hands up in the air in frustration.

"No, my rodent died!" She hissed irritably.

Tony gazed in bewilderment at her.

"Your-your rodent? I didn't know you had a pet."

Ziva looked back at him in utter perplexity.

"I don't have a pet." She stated in confusion.

"My rodent died." She repeated holding up her computer mouse for him to see.

"Oh, your mouse you mean." Tony said in sudden comprehension.

"Yes, that."

"Ah, don't worry about it McGoo can-" He stopped abruptly. Ziva's face tightened as she struggled with her emotions and Tony fought to keep his expression neutral.

"I'll buy you a new one." He finished as if nothing had happened.

"Its not normal." Ziva said a moment later.

"Naw, I've had my mouse break several times and the boss breaks his as often as he breaks his cell phones so-"

"I meant about McGee."

Tony stopped.

"I know you did." He said gently.

"Its just not normal! He never said anything about this before. I never knew he felt that way about us. I thought we were a team." Ziva went on hopelessly.

"I know. If I had known before I would have changed I mean- ugh he should have said something!" Tony ranted unhappily.

They sat in a miserable silence both engrossed in their own thoughts.

"I went to see Abby earlier this morning." Tony mentioned after a moment. "She's a mess. Listening to The Fray. I mean don't get me wrong they're a decent band but they're just not…Abby. They're McGee's favorite though. I walked in on her and she was just laughing and crying and…"

The silence continued once more.

"Why would he just leave us? Are we really that cruel? I mean we are a team! We are supposed to stick together!" Tony burst out a moment later breaking the silence once more. Ziva stared blankly at her computer screen.

"I didn't know it was possible to just leave the people you have shared your life with after 8 years." Ziva said softly.

"You did." Tony reminded her.

"Yes, but that was different. This is McGee we are talking about! He has us and Ducky and Gibbs and Abby, especially! I mean those two are practically joined by the knee, yes?" Ziva replied heatedly.

"Hip, but yeah I get what you mean. Its just…not normal."

They glanced at each other for a moment then turned their attention once more to the empty chair that once contained their team member. And friend.

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**Reviews are always appreciated along with any advice you'd care to grant me with...it will all be taken into consideration. Luv ya all!**


	8. Someone His Own Size

**Sorry its been so long since an update!**

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The doors to Autopsy swished open making Gibbs' presence known as he strode into the icy room warmed only by Ducky's charming smile, but that too was absent at the present moment. Jimmy grinned innocently at Gibbs, but his smile dissolved instantly from the disconcerted look on the older man's face. Ducky flashed Jimmy a quick glance, which he instantaneously understood.

"I-I'm just going to go now." He mumbled as he ducked out through the swiftly closing doors.

"You wanted to see me, Duck?" Gibbs questioned, once Jimmy had disappeared.

"Yes, Jethro I did. I need to inform you of several things that may help us comprehend the departure of our young Timothy and what we can do to prevent any more damage," Ducky replied gently.

Gibbs scrutinized the aged ME's face, searching his eyes for some clue of what was going on in his brilliant brain.

"I'm listening."

"Its just…the way he left. It was sudden, shocking, yet still obviously planned out. That was not a decision he made a few minutes earlier but one that was carefully considered before being put into action." Ducky elucidated in a very Ducky-like fashion.

"But why did he?" Gibbs pondered angrily in exasperation.

"Aha, the reason for the plan. He showed no signs of irritation or frustration before quitting, no ill feelings towards anyone in the building and certainly no one on your team. You of all people can tell when a person is troubled and he demonstrated none of the symptoms common with that of anger. Further more he had far too much at stake here to leave. He has Tony, who is a good, brotherly, figure. Ziva who is also a close friend, and Abby I mean goodness knows how close those two are! And finally you, Jethro, who is his role model, his father figure, his hero-"

"Who he also thinks couldn't have made more mistakes in life and is a screw-up." Gibbs interjected acrimoniously.

"Which brings me to my last point. Timothy is a kind, sweet-natured, young man who is also viciously passionate and intensely loyal. It's a hazardous combination at times."

What I'm trying to get at," Ducky continued noting Gibbs' impatient expression " Is when that boy left he was in fierce pain."

"Well yeah, Duck, I kinda figured that one out myself." Gibbs interpolated astringently, sounding harsher than he had intended.

"Jethro, I think there is more going on here that meets." Ducky finally stated purposefully, ignoring Gibbs' discordant behavior.

Gibbs sighed heavily, nodding his head knowingly.

"You've been thinking the same thing." Ducky said, pronouncing it more like a statement than an inquiry.

"Jethro, whatever's going on here, I think Timothy is doing it to protect us. Now its your job to figure out why."

"Thanks for connecting the dots, Duck." Gibbs replied, looking like he was in a considerably better mood as he clapped Ducky gently on the shoulder.

"I just hope they figure it out soon before something drastic happens." Ducky murmured to the body on the table.

Tim closely analyzed the room of the restaurant he had just entered_. "Pick on someone your own size." _The sentence rang in his mind intermittently.

"Would you like to take a seat, sir?" Asked a timid teenage boy, sporting a shirt blazoned with the restaurants insignia.

"Uh, yeah that would be great." Tim answered flashing him a friendly smile. He remembered vividly what it was like to be a probie at a job. The boy led him to a table and with fumbling fingers gave him a menu.

"Just tell me when your ready." The boy mumbled.

Tim glanced at his nametag.

"Thanks, Brandon. Hey uh, I've never been here before so what to you recommend?" Tim asked the boy named Brandon affably.

"Uh, um, well, I reckon the steaks alright." Brandon stuttered.

"Ok, I'll have one of the steaks, then."

"Anything to drink, sir?"

"Just water please. And call me Tim."

Brandon granted him a shy smile.

"Coming right up, Tim." He replied more confidently and scurried away.

Tim chuckled to himself, and made a reminder to give the kid a good tip. Once more he studied the room, looking for some form of clue to help him out. _"Pick on someone your own size." _Finding nothing out of the ordinary he shook his head in puzzlement and waited silently for his food to come, still pondering the absurdity of his instructions. His meal arrived shortly and Tim halfheartedly began eating, not necessarily hungry but merely following his directions. Finally he put his knife and fork down and observed the room one final time. It was then as he was gazing over at the bar he recognized a guy from work. They worked on the same floor and they exchanged greetings on occasion but Tim didn't recall the man's name. He had flirted with Abby once and Tim had since blocked the name form his memory, but apart from that he seemed like a decent guy. _"Pick on someone your own size." _This seemed to be it so Tim dropped Brandon a tip and made his way over to the man, regretting having to get into a fight with him.

"Hey." Tim said harshly, giving the guy a non-to gentle shove. The man seemed startled as he turned around but a look of recognition swept over his face as he identified Tim's familiar face.

"Hey yourself. How's it going Special Agent McGee?" The man said patting the seat next to him in a friendly gesture.

Tim swallowed back his urge to take the seat, now deeply regretting having to harm this man. His teammates faces flashed in his mind and he shook his ruefulness away.

"Stop trying to steal my girlfriend!" Tim snarled viciously.

The man looked at him in complete bafflement.

"I have no idea what you are talking about." The man answered, seeming very sincere.

"Oh, of course not." Tim retorted callously. "I'm sure that's what you thought when you were checking her out!"

"Look, McGee I have no idea who your girlfriend even is!" He replied honestly.

Tim glared at him vehemently and a look of sudden comprehension washed over the man's face.

"Do you mean Abby?"

Tim's glare deepened at her name and he nodded his head angrily. The man looked considerably frightened as he hastened to apologize.

"Look, man, I am so sorry. I had no idea she was off limits! And besides, you can't blame me for looking I mean she is quite the-"

Real fury was gnawing away at his insides and Tim grabbed the guy by his collar, but still he didn't want to actually injure him.

"Whoa, easy there boys." Said a large, burly guy stationed at the off duty agent's right.

Tim glanced at the man then, not wanting to be the cause of a bar fight, roughly heaved his coworker away.

"Just back off." Tim hissed jarringly.

The man bobbed his head rapidly in agreement and immediately exited the restaurant. Tim nodded gruffly to the other men and turned to walk away. His felt terrible, and he desperately hoped that he hadn't just ruined the poor man's night. With this thought bearing him down he walked out of the restaurant to find the poor victim of his false accusation. Tim walked swiftly around the parking lot until he spotted a familiar looking car. Assuming this was the man's vehicle he approached it cautiously. He walked up to the window only to peer in and behold an alarming site. There sat the man, his head lolling onto his shoulder, blood gushing from the deep wound on his neck. On the seat next to him was a dinner knife covered in blood.

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**Reviews are always appreciated!**


	9. Timothy McGee: World Class Liar

**I have never once abandoned this story, it just...had a little trouble transferring from my mind to my computer! I'm so sorry...ever, ever so sorry! But I know where I'm going with it now! So, no worries, I will never abandon this! Thank you all you readers who are coming back to this story...it means the world to me!**

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Tim tore open the car door and reached forward to check the man's pulse. There was none.

"Oh geez," Tim muttered under his breath as he hurriedly pulled out the man's cell phone. He dialed 911 and left the phone open on the ground before dodging away to his car. Tim attempted to conceal his bloody hands inconspicuously as he passed several people on the way. Finally he was speeding to the hotel, fleeing the scene of the crime. His pulse was racing at an unbelievable speed as he flung open the door of his hotel room and staggered into the bathroom. His stomach was churning uncomfortably but the urge to throw up passed. With trembling fingers he flipped on the sink and fervently scrubbed his hands to rid them of the blood. He was just beginning to calm down when his phone rang. Uncontrollable anger replaced his panic and he answered it without hesitation.

"McGee!" He snarled viciously into the cell.

"Timothy, why the irate tone? Did something happen to upset you?" Earnest's soothing voice countered him.

"You bastard! You murdered him!" Tim yelled, unable to control the rage in his voice.

"Yes, it was unfortunate. However, quite necessary. You know me well Timothy, and you know I would never dirty my hands unless it was absolutely needed," Earnest replied almost remorsefully.

"How could you kill him? He didn't do anything wrong!" Tim hissed into the phone, his hands shaking.

"No, no Timothy. You killed him,"

"I would never kill an innocent person," Tim retorted indignantly. "Don't you go putting the blame on me! This is your fault not mine!"

"Timothy, you have to take on the role of a killer to have them believe you. You are no longer a good person Timothy. You soul is marred my murder. Believe this. Think in this mindset. It is the only way."

"I didn't kill him, I'm not a murderer," Tim whispered, penitence that wasn't rightly his causing him to crumble to the floor.

"Yes you are, Timothy," Earnest cooed softly, savoring the words.

"No I'm not, I'm not," Tim whimpered, the intensity of the past few days crashing over him in waves.

"NCIS federal agents will be showing up at your doorstep any moment. You will tell them exactly what happened. You will tell them how you met with Special Agent Sanders. You will tell them how you killed him by taking your dinner knife and severing his carotid arteries. You will tell them that you are a murderer,"

_Click. _The line went dead.

Tim put his head in his hands. This was impossible. He could never pull this off. His friends would be dead because he had never mastered the art of lying.

_You have to take on the role of a killer. You must think in this mindset._

But how could he manage that?

There was a loud banging on his door and a thunderous shout of "_Federal Agents, open the_ _door!_".

Clambering to his feet Tim walked shakily to the door. The moment it opened he was no longer an ex-federal agent but a murderer. And if that's what it took to save his team, then so be it. He just hoped he would be convincing enough. His trembling hands steadied as he reached for the doorknob and pulled it open. A group of vaguely familiar agents with gleaming NCIS badges met his gaze. He didn't even have a moment to speak before icy handcuffs were slapped harshly to his wrists.

"Timothy McGee, you have the right to remain silent..."

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"Ex- Special Agent Tim McGee," Asked one Special Agent Harding with an air of bravado, "Do you know why you're here?"

"Well, um, because, because, you think I killed Special Agent Sanders?" Tim asked tentatively from across the interrogation room table.

"Exactly,"

"Well, I did you know," Tim replied, attempting to sound as self-important as possible, but hearing the words leave his mouth…they really didn't sound all that impressive. This killer mindset thing was a lot more difficult than he had anticipated.

"Well then," said Agent Harding with a look of mild surprise, "This should be rather quick. How did you kill Agent Sanders?"

"I took my dinner knife and slit his throat, severing his carotid arteries," Tim informed him dully, regurgitating the words he had been instructed to speak.

"And why exactly did you commit this heinous act?" Agent Harding questioned, now looking slightly perturbed by Tim's blatant lack of remorse.

"Oh well, you know," Tim stalled, wildly trying to adapt a brutal mindset. Perhaps he ought to just act like all the sick people he put in prison all these years. Like a…well, murderer. "See after all these years of putting bad people away, I always wondered what it was like. To have the blood of an innocent person on your hands. To kill without a reason. It sounded so twisted, so intriguing that I just- I just had to try it out for myself. I met Sanders up a restaurant and I just thought he was the perfect target for my bloodlust," Tim enlightened the now very disturbed looking agent. Perhaps feigning to be a killer wasn't so complicated after all.

"This seems…. very out of character for you, Agent McGee," Harding told him quietly, eyeing him with a look of uneasiness.

"Well, what can I say? Sometimes after working as a fed for so many years, something about the line of work just eats away at your brain and one day ya just," Tim lifted his fingers and snapped them together for the dramatic affect, "snap,"

Agent Harding swallowed apprehensively and glanced up at him with newfound hesitation. For some reason this struck Tim as funny and he let out a low chuckle.

"You think there's something funny about this situation, former Special Agent McGee?" Harding snapped forcefully.

"I do. And so would anyone with an overtly morbid sense of humor," Tim countered dryly, suddenly finding his foothold in the attitude of a criminal. He stretched backward in a relaxed position on his chair and smiled pleasantly at the dumfounded agent.

"Why is every agent who works for Gibbs so-"

"Irritating? Disrespectful towards authority? It's all a result of working with Team Gibbs. You think you can go in without getting influenced, but then after 8 years you wake up and find that you're just like the rest of your team. And that's not much of an insult," Tim replied complacently.

Special Agent Harding's silent comeback was harshly cuffing him and dragging him to his feet.

"I'm taking you down to a holding cell, dirtbag," Harding hissed heatedly into his ear, "And then your going to jail for the rest of your miserable life. Because that's what you deserve, scum!"

"Sounds like fun," Tim quipped back lightly and was rewarded with a shove forward.

"You know what we're gonna do?" Harding snarled so close to him Tim could feel his warm breath.

"What are we going to do?" Tim responded with mock enthusiasm.

"We're going to go into the squadroom and we're going go say hello to your ex-team. And then you're going to look your boss in the eye and tell him what murdering scum of the earth you are!"

The smirk that had been playing on Tim's lips fled. Before he knew it he was being steered into the squadroom, met instantly by Gibbs, Tony, and Ziva all whom it seemed had heard about the unknowingly false accusations put against him.

"McGee!" Gibbs practically shouted, "What the hell is going on?"

He bowed his head in shame, unable to look any of them in the eye.

"Go on, McGee. Look him in the eye and tell them what you are," Harding spat vehemently.

"Do it!" he snarled when Tim hesitated.

Tim swallowed hard, filled with rage at his situation. He then set his jaw firmly and looked up, staring Gibbs directly into his icy blue eyes.

"I'm a murderer, boss."

Gibbs glare evaporated, and turned into a unwavering stare of incredulity.

"Where are you taking him?" He asked, turning to look at Harding.

"Down to a holding cell, Agent Gibbs,"

"I'll do it,"

"I'm sorry, but the Director gave specific orders-" Harding began.

"I said I'll do it," Gibbs repeated forcefully, nailing Harding with a callous glare.

"Agent Gibbs, I could get fired-"

"Believe me, if you don't hand him over right now, your going to get a lot worse done to you than being fired," Gibbs threatened quietly, advancing towards him with malicious intent.

Agent Harding faltered slightly before reluctantly handing Tim over to his ex-boss.

"Sir, if you don't get him down to a holding cell I'll-" Harding started.

"Don't you go making threats against me," Gibbs stated lowly, and Harding practically cowered.

"I leave you to your business then," Harding replied meekly before turning and leaving rather hastily.

"McGee," Gibbs started softly into his ear, "We're going to be having a little talk,"

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**Fun lil' cliffy there :D I had a blast writing this chapter! So fun writing badMcGee...hehehe...so, what did you think? **

**I swear I'll update soon! Oh, and not that anyone really cares, but I finally got a drumset! So my lifelong dream of becoming a drummer is slowly coming into play...**

**Anyway, how'd you guys like criminal McGee?  
**


	10. Lies Told By The Honest

**Hehe I _told_ you guys I didn't give up this story! I meant to upload last night, but I just re-painted my room so I didn't have time, sorry :/ But my room looks great! And so does this chapter...I have to admit, its one of my favorites that I've written. Don't worry, we're losing CriminalMcGee in this chapter! Though he was fun to write, I like sweet Timmy better :D Hope you enjoy...**

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Gibbs led McGee silently into the elevator with Tony and Ziva in tow. None of them said a word as the elevator rumbled to life and began its descend. Tim felt as if he was being led into his early demise as they steered him in to Autopsy. He hung his head if at all possible lower as he saw that both Abby and Ducky were waiting for them. The moment they were through the automatic doors, Ducky flipped the Contamination: Lockdown switch and they were sealed in.

"Sit," Gibbs commanded severely, guiding him to the unoccupied chair. Tim irritably jerked away from Gibbs' grip on his handcuffs and slumped into the chair, his head still bowed. A shiver ran down his spine as he felt each of their individual gazes fixated on him, and he squeezed his eyes tightly shut.

_You're not Tim McGee anymore. You're a sociopath who kills without reason. You're not you, you're a psychopath,_ Tim repeated fervently in his head, clenching his fists.

Gibbs crouched down and looked up at Tim's forcefully shut eyes.

"What's going on, Tim?" He asked quietly.

Tim licked his dry lips, resolute on his decision of acting like a killer. If he had managed to make a trained interrogator believe in his façade of mental insanity, surely he could do the same with his team.

"So, what's this? An intervention from ex-coworkers? Didn't know you guys cared that much," Tim spat aggressively. He turned his icy gaze from Gibbs searching steely blue orbs, to Tony's perplexed stare, then onto Ziva's compassionate eyes. Ducky studied him closely from behind his glasses, but Tim faltered when he met Abby's distressed emeralds.

"Of course we care, McGee," Ziva replied gently.

Tim was silent.

"We can help you, McGee," Tony said with a note of urgency in his normally composed tone.

"I know you guys," McGee said darkly, "And you don't help murderers,

"You're not a murderer, McGee!" Abby burst out indignantly, her eyes flashing dangerously at him.

"Wanna bet?" Tim snapped, countering her look with a glare. But the more he stared into her fuming eyes, the more he felt the heavy chains of false anger around his desperate mind break so he averted his gaze.

"Doesn't matter if you're a murderer or not, Tim. You're family. We always help family," Gibbs stated resolutely.

"Well then you guys have got a pretty sick sense of loyalty," Tim retorted spitefully, his eyes emitting another uncharacteristic glower.

"Yes, we do," Ducky replied grimly, "But you would do the same for us, Timothy,"

"Would I?" Tim bit back. He rather regretted it when he witnessed a look up graveness coincide on all of their faces.

"Yes, you would," Ziva said firmly, "The Timothy McGee we all know would give his life for his teammates in a heartbeat. And we would do the same for him,"

"Yeah, well maybe I'm not that person anymore," Tim admitted, the gaze he pierced them with now completely void of anger.

His eyes wandered from face to face with sudden desperation. He wanted to memorize each and every detail of them for it was very likely that this was the absolute last time he would ever see them again. Or so his gut was telling him… This abrupt realization caused him an overwhelming sadness that he was having an immensely difficult time concealing.

"Tim, I know you. You could never be a coldhearted killer! You are the sweetest most sensitive person I know, and you have the most genuine heart I've ever seen," Abby proclaimed compellingly, dropping to his side and placing a hand on his knee, "That's why we love you, Timmy,"

Tim was unable to resist looking up into her captivating eyes. It was all too much as he took in her bleeding mascara and swaying ponytails. He tried to document every single detail about her, but it was becoming increasingly difficult as his vision blurred with tears. One slipped down his cheek and he wished helplessly that he wasn't in handcuffs so he could wipe it away. He couldn't lose it now. Not when he'd come so far already. But his bottom lip was trembling and no matter how hard he stubbornly fought it, his tears were multiplying, cascading like raindrops down his cheeks.

"Dear boy," Ducky sighed quietly, sympathetically studying McGee's distressing state.

So much for that, Tim thought resentfully as he struggled to compose himself.

"Tim, its ok," Abby whispered, instantly looping her arms around his neck, pulling him close. Tim welcomed the contact and buried his face in her shoulder, wondering if this would truly be the last time he would fall victim to one of her hugs.

Tony and Ziva shared a grave glance, and Gibbs heaved a heavy sigh and placed a hand on Tim's shoulder.

"Couldn't just spare me this, could he?" Tim moaned bitterly between sharp breaths.

"Who McGee?" Gibbs demanded suddenly.

"No one," Tim inserted quickly, mentally shoving himself for his mistake.

"I said who, McGee?" Gibbs repeated forcefully, roughly shaking Tim's shoulder for emphasis.

Well, the crazy angle always did seem to be the most compelling…not to mention the more entertaining to play.

"The voice," Tim murmured, nearly cracking a smile at how unstable he sounded.

Gibbs stare bore into him, searching, studying.

"This voice have a name, McGee?"

Tim opened his mouth to answer then closed it again like a goldfish. He needed an out. But as he sat there contemplating how to answer he was struck with an idea. It was a grim but satisfying idea. He would not die in vain. He could still catch the killer. And maybe his plan could even spare his life, though he ought not get his hopes up. But if Earnest ever suspected he had a plan…

"Gibbs, can you keep them safe?" Tim asked abruptly, looking his boss directly in the eye.

"Always, Tim," Gibbs replied quietly, still analyzing him.

"Can you keep each other safe?" Tim said desperately, emphasizing each word with purposeful precision as he looked up at them all.

"Until the end, McGee," Tony affirmed definitely. Ziva nodded her head solemnly next to him.

"Good. You know, you guys were a really great team. Thank you for working with me," Tim thanked them sorrowfully.

"McGee, stop talking like that," Abby chastised him, her voice strangled slightly with emotion, "You're going to be fine. We're going to clear your name and everything is going to be fine. You just wait, everything will go back to normal, and you'll-you'll come down to my lab again and we'll solve cases together, and everything will be ok,"

Tim looked at her long and hard for a moment before leaning forward and placing a kiss firmly on her wet cheek. He tasted the salt from her tears as he pulled back. Truthfully he would have kissed her properly but he couldn't bring himself to do it. He couldn't die and leave her with that as their last memory looming over her like a foreboding storm cloud. As romantic as the situation would have been, he couldn't cause her that kind of mental torture.

"Gibbs," Tim addressed his boss boldly, "I'm going to need the key to my handcuffs,"

Gibbs stared at him questioningly.

"I'm not going to use it to break out. I just need it for- something. Trust me, please. I learned from the best," Tim persuaded confidently, imploring him with his eyes.

Gibbs sighed before pulling out the small key.

"Open your mouth, McGee," He commanded.

Tim did as he was told and Gibbs dropped the key in. He grimaced visibly as the metallic flavor seized his taste buds.

"Put it under your tongue,"

"Boss, that's quite unsanitary you know," Tony commented, wrinkling his nose.

Tim gave a small smile before turning a hard gaze to Gibbs.

"Agent Gibbs, I believe you have a criminal that you need to be escorting down to a holding cell," Tim said with mock irritation, though his eyes were gentle in their farewell.

Gibbs chuckled before pulling Tim to his feet and leading him out the now unsealed doors.

"We'll come to see you really soon, Tim. Don't you go worrying. We'll work this out!" Tony vowed.

"Yes, we will!" Abby agreed enthusiastically, raising two fingers to her forehead in a salute. Tony mimicked her action, as did Ducky.

"We will get you out of this, McGee," Ziva promised, as she too raised her hand in a salute of her partner.

And that was the last he saw of his team as Gibbs took him into the elevator. They rode in silence once more before the doors opened.

"Take care of yourself, Tim," Gibbs said gruffly too him. It was then followed promptly by a smack to the back of his head, "That's an order,"

"On it boss," Tim replied meaningfully as Gibbs handed him over to the frantic agents waiting.

Handing him over to his death.

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**So, didja like it? I'd love feedback... I worked really hard on this chapter! So, I'd love to hear your opinion! Thank you faithful readers!**


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